Shikamaru was in Kakashi’s office. The sixth Hokage was busily scribbling away, surrounded as always by a mountain of documents scattered about at random, free hand held up as a signal for the younger man to wait until he was finished. Through the open window on the other side of the Hokage, Shikamaru could see the streets of Konoha. The town had a calm air, lit up by the bright midday sun.
“Sorry to make you wait,” Kakashi said, slapping bundles of papers together on his desk. “So what did you need?”
“It’s about the Land of Silence.”
“Oh, that…”
Shikamaru still hadn’t reported on the alliance meeting of the other day. There wasn’t anything he particularly needed to call attention to, so he simply left it. Apparently, Kakashi had been anticipating the meeting report.
“The alliance is the same as always. It’s staffed with capable people. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“You’re one of those ‘capable people,’ you know.”
Am I really, in the end? Am I really the person assigned to be Konohagakure’s representative?
“You really plan to go?”
“Yes.”
Kakashi let out a sigh. “Do you need to go?”
“Sai’s been captured. And there are people there who defected from the village or who went missing in the Great War. We have to find out whether they’re staying there of their own free will or if they’ve been captured by this Gengo.”
“Seems like you’re decided.”
He said nothing, but simply nodded.
“Understood.” Closing his eyes, Kakashi shook his head from side to side before looking at Shikamaru once more. “I won’t say anything else. So who are you going to take with you? You’re not planning to go alone, are you?”
“Could I be given two members of the Anbu?”
“Ohh.” Kakashi placed his elbows on his desk and rested his chin on clasped hands, his eyes serious. “You don’t want Ino or Choji?”
“The Ino-Shika-Cho combination is effective in aboveboard fights, but is not appropriate for missions such as this.”
“Because it’s an assassination.”
“And infiltration is a large factor in this as well. If possible, I want people who can hide their chakra.”
“Mm-hmm.” Kakashi lowered his eyes and considered the situation. As someone with a background in the Anbu, he was well versed in the state of affairs over there. He seemed to be taking in Shikamaru’s request and listing candidates in his head. “You won’t be the one to strike the final blow.”
“I intend to restrain the target with my jutsu.”
“Then you’ll need someone to actually take him down,” Kakashi said, anticipating his words. Shikamaru had in fact been thinking the same thing.
Two members of the Anbu. One a shinobi who could mold chakra to hide Shikamaru’s presence, and the other a ninja with a jutsu to actually shoot the target down.
“You’ll need the right people.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll arrange it immediately.”
“Don’t you have other work to do first?”
“Nothing more urgent than this matter with you,” Kakashi replied, and Shikamaru felt the immensity of being Hokage.
The Hokage coolly judged the seriousness of any situation and made a prompt decision. And because he did, the ninja could use their abilities to the fullest for the sake of the village. It was something Shikamaru couldn’t possibly do. He had never once wanted to be Hokage. But it would indeed be a lie to say there wasn’t something there he yearned for. The still-young Shikamaru felt frustration at the fact that he couldn’t go up against the largeness of Kakashi as a man.
“I’ll have the two of them return right away. Can you wait a little longer?”
“I’d appreciate it if we could do this as soon as possible.”
“I know.” Smiling, Kakashi stood up. He turned his back to Shikamaru and stared out the window. “You don’t have to take on a burden like this, you know,” he murmured.
Shikamaru didn’t answer.
Take on a burden…
Maybe he was. Before he even realized it, Shikamaru had ended up carrying all kinds of things on his back. Even though he thought anything and everything was a hassle, he grabbed on to all sorts of things in a way that was actually unlike him, things that were so heavy he could barely carry them. But he still couldn’t bring himself to let go.
He was scared.
He had the feeling that if he threw it all away, he wouldn’t be him anymore. He had always found things a drag. If he put his load down for a minute, would he be able to pick it back up again? Would anyone need him anymore? The thought frightened him so much he could hardly stand it.
“I’m going to tell you what I really think.”
Flickers of lightning snaked out from Kakashi’s left hand in the air.
“You want to toss aside all your obligations as Hokage and go to the Land of Silence right now.”
Shikamaru could hear Kakashi’s heart screaming that he wanted to drop everything, go to the Land of Silence, and eliminate Gengo himself. But the position of Hokage and all the responsibilities it entailed were not so easily abandoned.
“I just feel bad for putting all this on your shoulders.” Kakashi sighed. “Naruto and I and everyone from our year, we’re all in positions of responsibility now. You don’t have to carry everything on your own shoulders anymore.”
“Right.” The lightning melted into the sunlight. Kakashi turned around. “Shikamaru, what does it mean to be an adult?”
“Please don’t ask me things like that.”
∞
“I’ll come again,” Shikamaru said, turning his back to the tombstone.
The stone had Nara Shikaku carved on it. His father’s grave.
After the meeting with Kakashi, his feet had naturally brought him to the cemetery. What does it mean to be an adult? He had the feeling the answer to Kakashi’s question was here.
During the Fourth Great Ninja War, his father had been in the alliance headquarters with the five Kages. When the fighting grew more intense, the five Kages headed out to the front line, and his father took command of the entire army alongside Ino’s father, Inoichi. After awakening Ten Tails, Obito launched a Biju Bomb at the headquarters with the intent of throwing the entire army into chaos. As deadly shells rained down on them, Shikaku continued to give orders to the army until the very end.
He was a ninja up to the moment of his death.
No.
The truth was, for an instant before he died, Shikaku was a father. However, the only one who knew that was his son.
What is an adult? Shikamaru wondered. He said his farewell to his father’s grave, and his feet turned toward his next destination.
His master’s grave. Sarutobi Asuma.
Although he was of the same lineage as the third Hokage, Asuma refused the path of the elite in favor of taking a stand on the front line. Shikamaru came of age as a ninja under the tutelage of Asuma after graduating from the academy. With his good friends Choji and Ino, he tackled mission after mission, trying to catch up to his master.
No matter what kind of difficult situation he found himself in, Asuma never lost his cool as he casually slipped a cigarette between his lips; he was Shikamaru’s hero. And now Asuma was no longer of this world.
In the fight with the Akatsuki, who had been secretly maneuvering to take over the world, Asuma had died so that Shikamaru could live.
Understanding that they had no hope of defeating the Akatsuki, Asuma had wagered his own life to protect Shikamaru and his friends. He too had died thinking of other people right up until his last moment.
Shikamaru didn’t yet have anything that he would sacrifice his own life to protect. The people of the village and his friends were definitely important to him, but he felt like it was different from how his father and Asuma had been so fiercely protective. In that sense, maybe Shikamaru was still not an adult. Maybe he was simply a child held captive by the ambiguity of the word “adult” itself. In which case, maybe Kakashi was a child too.
However, Kakashi already had something he would give his life for.
“To the Hokage, all the people of the village are your children.” The words of the third Hokage, Hiruzen, Asuma’s father. Kakashi had probably been a grown-up at the moment he chose a life as the Hokage.
Shikamaru didn’t know what was what anymore.
“Shika!”
A carefree voice reached his ears, jolting him out of his meditations. Something was tottering toward him: a perfectly round baby, jerking perfectly round arms and legs out awkwardly in all directions. The baby was singularly focused on reaching Shikamaru.
“Mirai!” Shikamaru called the baby’s name. His voice naturally grew brighter. His cheeks slackened, and a smile played across his lips.
“Eeah!”
When Mirai reached Shikamaru’s feet, she hugged him with short arms. “Shika!” she said, in the same tone as before. Clinging to his legs as she looked up at him, Mirai’s grin was so wide it almost blinded him. He felt his frozen heart melt in the face of that smile like the sun.
“It’s been a while, Shikamaru.”
“Master Kurenai.”
“I’m not your master anymore. You can stop calling me that,” the woman with black hair said with a smile.
Sarutobi Kurenai. A jonin who had led Shikamaru’s class at the same time as Asuma and Kakashi. Now, however, she was devoting herself to being Mirai’s mother.
“Asuma’s grave?”
“Yeah.”
“What about your father’s grave?”
“I was just there.”
Even as Shikamaru and Kurenai talked, Mirai was nuzzling his legs with her face, still clinging to him with a smile. “Shika! I saw Papa now.”
His heart warmed as he watched her struggle and push to communicate with her childish vocabulary and unmastered grammar.
Be this child’s teacher…
He had promised Asuma and Kurenai he would.
“Is that so? You went and saw your daddy?” Shikamaru said, crouching down, and Mirai nodded in delight. Apparently, she was thrilled he had understood what she said. “What a clever girl you are, Mirai.”
He patted her head, and the feel of her soft, tufty hair came through the palm of his hand, a gentle breeze blowing through his soul. “You hurry and get big, okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You really do love big brother Shikamaru, don’t you?” Kurenai said, and Mirai nodded so hard she stumbled forward.
Shikamaru held out both hands to keep her from falling over from the weight of her own head. I can’t die for this kid either, huh…
“That’s right!” Mirai said, in perfect timing with his thoughts.
“Thanks.”
He picked the little girl up. Looking up at her as she squealed with vibrant laughter, he felt it once more, powerfully: I can’t die.